Small Words
by jokermobile
Summary: The boy Will has the potential to be trained as a Ranger. I will accept him as my apprentice." Halt never could've guessed the impact those few, small words would have on his life. Eventual Halt/Will.
1. Chapter 1

I'm going to hell for writing this pairing. D:  
I love reviews! If you read this, please leave one- even if it's to tell me it sucked.  
I don't own Ranger's Apprentice.

***

Halt loved Will too much. He loved Gilan too much, too, but that was different. He'd learned to love Gilan through kettles of coffee on the fire, through practicing in the snow, through Gilan's overly cheerful disposition, which he kept, despite Halt's own dour one. He'd learned to love Gilan as a son. His love for Will was _similar_, but not the same. He didn't know quite what it was or how to describe it.

He remembered when he saw Will there on Choosing Day. There was nothing significant about him physically. He was slight in stance and had few muscles. Poor boy—he'd be rejected by whatever school he tried to get into. But his size was perfect for a Ranger.

Of course, getting to know the boy was an interesting experience. Halt immediately learned that Will was very inquisitive—a good quality in a Ranger, but an annoying one in a Ranger's apprentice. As his own special brand of punishment, he set Will to work on the housework.

Having someone in his cottage with him after so many years alone was odd to say the least, but he came to enjoy it with time—just as he came to enjoy Will's company with time. The boy was bright and eager to learn.

The first time Halt realized how much he cared for Will was when he watched the boy almost get killed by a wild boar. Will was small already; crouched in front of the boar, he'd never looked so insignificant. For that brief moment, Halt had been terrified of losing his apprentice. Then his hands found his bow. When the boar slouched to the ground, dead, Halt leapt to the ground and scooped the boy into a protective embrace; thanking God the quivering, sobbing pile of adolescent flesh against him still had a pulse.

After that day, everyone acted different toward Will. Everyone except for the one that mattered. He'd wanted—needed—some acknowledgement of his feat from Halt, something beyond an inclination of his head. In all the time they'd known each other, Halt had rarely issued any form of praise to Will, and the few times he _did_ compliment him, Halt made sure to retract it with a comment like, "Keep going at this rate, and you'll pass for mediocre someday." Will had grown to like the Ranger over time, but his mentor could be so frustrating sometimes! Halt still didn't answer many of his questions or smile, and he refused to give praise. All Will wanted was one statement of praise, one compliment, that Halt _didn't_ take back, that would be enough for Will to know he made Halt proud.

***

Will felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and awoke to see his mentor above him. Not that he'd got much sleep, with the Stones singing their eerie, tuneless song. He sat and then stood. Gilan still slept soundly, though how he could with that howling, Will didn't know.

The night was cloudless and cold. Will looked up at the sky and saw more stars than he'd ever seen at a time in it. He couldn't help but smile.

"God," he whispered excitedly. "I've never seen so many stars."

Halt smiled inwardly. He yearned for the days when something as simple as the night sky could evoke wonder in him. Halt nodded. "It has been cloudy lately, hasn't it?" He turned to his apprentice. "By the way, you haven't been taking the Stones as bad as I thought you would."

Little does he know they've been torturing me, Will thought. But then he reacted with anger.

"Don't you ever have anything positive to say?" he asked. He saw Halt's mouth begin opening to respond and cut him off. "And don't tell me not to ask stupid questions. You will answer me this time."

"Last I recalled, I was the Ranger and you were the apprentice. I'm supposed to give the orders."

"_Damn _your orders, Halt!" He felt the tears building behind his eyes and knew he wouldn't be able to hold them back. Halt would be able to hold back his tears. "Do I ever do anything to make you proud?" When his mentor failed to answer, he continued. "I mean, I never had a father, only Baron Arald, and…and—" He paused, frustrated with his inability to put his complaints into words. "You're my teacher, Halt! All I ever want to do is make you proud!"

Halt stared incredulously at the boy a little longer. He'd never heard his apprentice—a somewhat passive soul—have such an outburst, and wasn't sure just how to react to it.

When Will saw that Halt wasn't going to answer him, he said, "Forget it," and took his watch. As he heard his mentor settle on the ground behind him, the first tear fell.

***

"I'm a Ranger."

The words swirled through Halt's mind as he watched the boy sleep, along with so many other memories of the past few days. He knew that this boy saved his life, though he had not been conscious to remember it himself. He'd heard what happened, though—about Will's quick thinking when everyone else was down, about how his arrow breathed fire in the night. Halt wished he could have seen it. He pictured the scene in his head. Fire in the night. He liked that.

Rangers weren't supposed to get attached like this. They were supposed to put their kingdom first and not let emotions get in the way. Rangers were supposed to be alone.

Will clutched the bronze oak leaf in his sleep as if he were afraid of losing it—just as, Halt realized, his heart clung to Will as if it were afraid of losing _him_. And it was then that Halt realized that he _wasn't _alone. He had Will.

Halt couldn't help but smile at the boy. "You do make me proud," he whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

Will entered Halt's bedroom with fresh bandages and a bowl of steaming water, placing them on the small table by Halt's bed. Halt sat up, muttering his thanks. Will decided it best not to disturb his master any further and left, heading outside to tend to the firewood that needed chopping.

Halfway through the mound, Will stopped to take a break. He noted vaguely that it didn't take him quite so long to split the logs as it used to. He absentmindedly fingered the bronze oak leaf that hung around his neck.

Since being injured, Halt had become more stubborn than ever. At first, he'd acted like nothing had happened—like he wasn't injured, and hadn't almost lost his life. Will decided to finally take a stand and tell his mentor to rest. Halt had muttered something about his duties to his kingdom and duties to Will, but Will had countered it with a winning argument. "What use are you to the kingdom or me if you're injured like this? Don't worry. I'll do my chores and keep up with my training and help you out around here. Just try to rest."

Halt considered the notion, then sighed resignedly. "If you really want to be a help," he said, "make me a cup of coffee."

Since then, Will had kept his promise, and Halt, in return, had kept to his room as much as possible. It pained Will to see his master like that; he _knew_ Halt hated being confined; he knew Halt needed to keep busy, needed to feel important, but what other option did they have?

Halt had been recovering nicely, and could even ride Abelard again. But his wound was still not fully healed, and Will worried that if Halt strained himself too much—which, if Will knew Halt at all, he'd do—the injury would break open again and they'd be back at square one.

Will was about to get back to chopping when a messenger rode up in front of him and dismounted. "Is Ranger Halt in? I have a message from the King."

Will hesitated, unsure as to how to answer. "Yes..."

The messenger waited expectantly, then asked, "Can you go and get him?"

"I'm his apprentice. Could I take the message to him?"

The messenger narrowed his eyes at the stubborn boy. "Fine." He handed Will a scroll and mounted again. Will didn't bother to watch the man ride off, instead hurrying straight to Halt with the scroll. Halt unrolled it and read it, and for the first time in weeks, a hint of the old Halt returned. He rolled the scroll back up and shoved it into his pocket. "Feel like going for a ride?"

Once they'd spent a few days tracking the wargals, Halt was back to normal completely, and, apart from the occasional spasms of pain that still ran up his leg, there was almost no sign that he'd ever been injured. Will was silently grateful his master was back to normal; he liked his teacher to be strong, to be someone one whom he could depend. Will liked the feeling that no matter what, Halt would be able to get them through anything.


	3. Chapter 3

Halt loved Will too much. That's why he decided to do what he did.

When he'd heard about it, his first impulse was to run right out of the King's office and go looking for Will, but his duties to his kingdom kept him there, and there he stayed until his senses came to him.

And so he tramped about the country, chasing after fake Foldars, because it was his duty. Except that…he couldn't help but notice that he'd been smiling more since he met Will, and his small cottage felt just a bit emptier without Will. It was then he realized how petty what he'd been doing was. It was then that he realized what was important. Will was important. Will was worth his silver oak leaf, was worth his life. And without Will, he realized, _all_ his work would seem petty.

So that's why he did what he did, and why he hardly flinched when he lost his oak leaf. Because he'd finally found something (someone) that mattered more than his oak leaf. Because he'd made a promise to his young apprentice that he intended to keep at all costs. Because he loved Will.


End file.
